Regret

There are words written by two women I used to know

& shamefully I must admit that I did not give either the true gift of attention:

they knew me but I could not see beyond the boundary of my affliction; a selfish sadness

destroying everything..

From Saint Christopher to Blue John Stones, they gave me everything

& with that grace, with those prayers I drank & laughed

& let each future be consumed by the past.